


What happens in Competitive...

by Pinkwebby



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Bad Flirting, Cussing, Cute, Daddy Kink, Dirty Thoughts, First Meetings, Flirting, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 (Detroit: Become Human), Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, Insults, M/M, Not Beta Read, Overwatch References, Playing Overwatch, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22394794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkwebby/pseuds/Pinkwebby
Summary: Sixty just wants to play Overwatch, when he gets a toxic teammate who starts flirting with him ;)
Relationships: Captain Allen/CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	What happens in Competitive...

**Author's Note:**

> This was another prompt I found on Tumblr, since my ideas are absolute garbage! Follow this blog guys, the ideas that are submitted are really good! Also sorry for any mistakes, I'll catch them as I see them.
> 
> [The post!](https://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/189553172632/we-met-over-an-online-video-game-and-our-comms)

Overwatch competitive isn’t really a place you should be toxic. Or maybe it’s the only place you should be. Sixty always got that mixed up. But all he wanted to do was have a fun time on a video game he enjoyed. He wasn’t planning on being toxic or rude, it just came out naturally when he had such a brain-dead man for a team-mate.

“I’m not getting enough fucking heals! Where are the healers?!” The guy yelled into the comms, his poor mic crackling under the pressure he put it under.

Sixty took in a long breath and tried to keep himself calm. “I can only heal so much when you’re anti’ed, you motherfucker. I’m not some Mercy god over here!”

“Yeah, I can see that! I bet you have less heals than fucking Soldier!” He blasted and Sixty had to try very very hard not to scream back. He clamped his mouth shut and let out a muted scream. He abhorred Reinhardt players who thought they needed to be pocketed 24/7, especially those who thought they were top shit in fucking diamond.

“On the contrary, you fucking dick, I’m healing our team and making sure the Ana that’s healing YOU isn’t dying in the backline!” He spat out.

“That’s rich coming from a Mercy main! I’ve only seen you damage boosting McCree! You got a southern gentlemen kink?”

Sixty’s eyes widened and he stared at his screen incredulously, “you’re fucking joking? You think just because I choose to damage boost him that I got a thing for him?!”

“If the shoe fits.”

“You’re FUCKING _GARBAGE!_ ” Sixty yelled into his mic as Reinhardt died again. There was no way they were getting this point, he was surrounded by idiots, how the fuck did he get put in diamond this season? It was like playing with toddlers!

“You know, I could show you some real southern hospitality, Mercy,” the voice was a real contrast from the yelling match that had just taken place a few minutes prior, the tone changing to one deep and rich, thick with what Sixty could only assume was a southern accent. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he wasn’t going to relent to this troll.

“Maybe if you can actually win us this match, big boy,” he replied, coating his voice in sickly sweetness. 

“You guys are making me uncomfortable! Can we just group up and get on the point?!”

“Connor shut it, mommy and daddy are talking,” Sixty snapped with a grin.

“As long as I get to be daddy,” the Reinhardt drawled, punctuating each word, which made Sixty even more annoyed. How dare this toxic ass tank player try to fucking flirt with him?! It was unacceptable!

“Just get us on the point and maybe we can talk,” he hummed with a derisive snort. They couldn’t win it at this point, with less than thirty seconds to go and their Widow dying to the enemy Ana? Yeah right. Sixty had practically given up at this point, sitting in the back with McCree and damage boosting him as he shot aimlessly at the other team.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the Reinhardt and he sighed heavily. Going for the flank, really? If that Sigma didn’t see him…his eyes widened as he earthshattered, knocking down everyone on that point. He instantly flew down to him and began to damage boost him while urging the rest of the team to join them on the shitty point so they could win.

“How about that, hm? You call that winning or what Mercy?” Sixty could hear the smugness in his tone and he bit down on his lip hard to not retort something back. He was the one causing them to lose, and just because he got one great ult, now he was an almighty Rein god?

“Calm the fuck down, your dick isn’t that big,” Sixty spat out in an irritated tone, relenting to the toxicity that had threatened to overflow. 

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you find out,” he purred in response, clearly enjoying this more than Sixty was himself. He seethed in his chair as the Rein got play and scrubbed at his face. “It was nice meeting you, honey. Let’s play again sometime, yea?” And then he was gone.

Sixty furiously clicked the leave button and dragged his whole party out of the match. “I fucking hated that guy! What the fuck was with his big dick attitude?! One second he’s calling me garbage and the next he sounds like he wants to dick me down?!”

“At least we won the game! Without his ult I don’t think we would’ve,” Connor pointed out, his voice soft in the discord. 

“He really had the hots for you, Sixty. You sure you don’t wanna add him as a friend?” Gavin barked out a laugh into his mic but Sixty did not find it funny at all. That guy, whatever the fuck his username was, was a stupid ass bitch. The only way they won that game was because Sixty had to fucking give him an incentive that wouldn’t even be carried out cause there was no way in hell, they’d ever see each other again-

Even though he couldn’t remember his username, he groaned as a familiar one popped up on his screen requesting to be his friend. SWATsic, a very peculiar name but one he just knew had to be the boorish man they just had the pleasure of playing with. Sixty slid down in his chair and had half a mind to delete it instantly and rid himself of those memories with a long, scalding shower. But his hesitation turned into something he dreaded. Curiosity. 

Against his better judgement, Sixty accepted the friend request and held his breath. Five minutes went by, then ten. Gavin and Connor’s voices droned on as background noise as Sixty tried to redirect his attention to something else besides looking at the guy’s username on his friend’s list.

[SWATsic]: You know you weren’t actually that bad of a Mercy. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot

The apology came as a surprise to him and he crossed his arms tightly as he stared down at the message. What was he supposed to say back? ‘ _Thank you for the apology_ ’ and then remove him? That was the most logical thing to do. But then again, Sixty wasn't always the sharpest knife in the drawer.

[To SWATsic]: I accept your apology, just because I’m that nice of a person

[SWATsic]: I noticed when you called me ‘fucking garbage’. Can I join your party?

[To SWATsic]: Only if you never ask me to call you daddy again

[SWATsic]: I don’t know, it sounded pretty hot coming from ur mouth ;)

Sixty practically screamed into his microphone, placing a hand over his eyes after he pressed the invite button. This was a bad idea; this was a terrible idea! Why did he do this? He was a glutton for punishment apparently, even though he had been punished enough by losing braincells from that last match. Gavin laughed boisterously, sounding like he swallowed his mic as he screamed into it, “you got a crush on him!”

“You sure this is a good idea, brother?” Connor asked as Gavin scream-laughed in the background.

Sixty did not get to answer as the guy joined the party and spoke before he got a chance, “call me daddy.”

Gavin Reed could be heard cackling throughout most of Detroit as Sixty slid all the way down into his chair and died on the spot.

~

He preferred to be called Allen, and Sixty liked the way it sounded on his own tongue. It could be said that Allen and Sixty were a match made in heaven. Always coming up with some kind of quip to outdo the other, they were always playing games together. Allen found it funny that his nickname was Sixty, and he had to explain it was because he and his brothers were those numbers in line to get Overwatch. Fifty-Eight, Fifty-Nine, Sixty.

Sixty liked Allen’s laugh, the small snorts he conjured when listening to Gavin rant about the games they played. He integrated into their online friend group easily, though he and Sixty were inexplicably drawn to each other. Allen was a shameless flirt, and his attention always seemed to be directed towards Sixty, who in turn, directed all his rage and toxicity towards him. 

The heavy sexual tension that seemed to blossom in between them annoyed their friends to no end and there was always a joke to be cracked about Sixty showing up to Allen’s house one day to finally get his rocks off.

“How would he find me?” Allen asked while he used a sultry voice to make it sound even worse. Sixty scoffed at the tone and placed his elbow on his desk as he watched Allen’s discord icon light up. He could sit here with him for hours, just to talk or to game. He hated to admit it, but he had a hardcore crush on him. Him and his stupid flirtations and the way his southern accent came out when he was angry. Or the way he spoke to Sixty in slow, drawling tones that always sent a shiver down his spine. God damnit.

“He’d use Connor or me, of course! Both of us work at the Detroit Police Station!” Gavin told him in another fit of giggles.

“Reed, you should not disclose your location nor your occupation to random strangers you meet online,” Nines droned out, but Sixty could tell he was smiling.

“Allen ain’t a random stranger anymore! He’s part of the friend group! I buy a drink in honor of him every time we go out!”

“Holy shit,” Allen breathed out, which caught Sixty’s attention, “you guys work at the station?”

There was a moment of complete and utter silence, not a single discord icon lit up as everyone soaked in what he said. And then it erupted into utter chaos. Even Sixty felt a bit frazzled.

“Wait wait wait! Allen, yer telling me you live in Detroit?!”

“A better question is, does he work at the DPD!?” Connor countered.

“How the fuck have we not seen you?!”

Everyone waited pensively for Allen to speak again, Sixty’s brown eyes focused on his icon for longer than he’d like to admit, as if the picture of a SWAT vest would tell him all the answers. His fist was clenched nervously. What if he really did live here? And that close as well? Sixty’s cheeks turned red.

“I’m SWAT Captain Allen,” he finally breathed out.

“NO FUCKING WAY! That’s it, I’m shutting my computer down! This is SO bullshit!” Gavin yelled. And Sixty felt the same. Though he never got into police work like his brothers did, he still worked with SWAT and the DPD frequently as a forensic pathologist. But he had never seen a Captain Allen before in his life!

“I thought you had the picture of a SWAT vest because you liked the police aesthetic!” Connor confessed, to which Allen laughed loudly. “No, that’s my actual vest! I can’t believe it! We all work in the same place and never once connected the fucking dots!”

“It’s true, we’re fucking idiots,” Nines dead panned.

“You know what else this means! We have to set up a date for Sixty and Allen!” Gavin said excitedly, “since we know everyone lives in the Detroit area!”

“No!” Sixty exclaimed a bit too quick, flush engulfing his whole face.

“Boo, you whore. Why not?” Gavin said in his typical pouty voice.

“Yeah Sixty, why not?” Allen hummed in that tone that always melted him like butter on a hot knife. There were many reasons Sixty did not want to meet Allen. First off, he was scared what he might think of Sixty. He wasn’t exactly…the most fit and handsome man on the planet. He was a fucking gamer in his spare time, he didn’t work out like his brothers or Gavin did. And if Allen was really a SWAT Captain, he was probably buff as all hell and Sixty would look like a scrawny bean pole compared to him! What if…he was disappointed when he finally met Sixty. He wasn’t sure he could handle the rejection of the guy he had a crush on for the past year.

“It…makes me fucking nervous, alright?!” Sixty snapped out.

“There’s no need to be nervous, honey. Why don’t we all go out for drinks then? If your brothers are there, would it make you more comfortable?”

Sixty glanced down at his hands and frowned, “yea, I guess.”

~

Even though he agreed to meet with Allen with everyone, he was still a nervous wreck. He had Nines and Connor come over to help him pick out a casual outfit, he even asked Gavin for any tips or tricks. Which was probably really stupid, because Gavin was a fucking idiot, but anything to make this less awkward and frightening.

At 7PM sharp, Connor, Nines, Sixty, and Gavin were all loitering outside Jimmy’s bar. Nines had pulled aside Gavin for a smoke break, which left Connor and Sixty leaning against the wall together. 

“Hank didn’t want to come? I thought he was always happy to get drunk off his ass,” Sixty snarked weakly at Connor, who merely shrugged. “He had extra paperwork to finish tonight and I wasn’t going to let him weasel out of it so easily.”

“Are you his nanny or his boyfrie-“ he stopped short as shoes appeared in his vision. He jerked his head up to come face-to-face with what he could only describe as the hottest fucking guy he’s ever seen. And he stood right in front of Sixty like he knew him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You must be Sixty,” he purred, “you look exactly like Connor.” He put out his hand to shake and god it was fucking huge. Sixty could picture those hands doing a lot to him…

“Call me Cain,” he stuttered, brown eyes wide as he looked at him. He dumbly looked down at Allen’s hand before he lamely reached out his own smaller hand and shook it. 

“Oh we’re on first name basis now? Then I guess you can call me Joseph.”

“Joseph,” he repeated, and damn if the name didn’t sound sexy as fuck.

“Cain,” Allen said with raised eyebrows, his green eyes piercing Sixty more than he was comfortable with. What the fuck, why did his name sound so good on Allen’s tongue? The Captain wore a black long-sleeved shirt that accentuated every muscle on his torso, down to his absolutely flawless pecs. And not to mention what was probably in his pants. Just one look down and he could see the man was probably well-endowed. Fuck, Cain would gladly let Allen put his dick in his mouth anytime. And even if he was shorter than Sixty himself, he could see that body being above him, fucking pounding him into whatever surface they were closest too. 

“Alright, could you eye-fuck somewhere else, yer making the rest of us uncomfortable,” Gavin butted in, shaking Sixty from his reverie. He inhaled deeply, eyes flicking up to stare into Joseph’s before he reached out and wrapped his slender arm around his bicep. He practically keened at how firm it was. 

“We’d love to stay, but I just remembered something I need to show Joseph at home,” Sixty went to stand beside the SWAT Captain, glancing at him. Allen merely nodded smoothly and fished out some car keys, “I’m ready to go when you are, honey.”

God, Sixty loved how slick Allen was. He was so glad he was wearing a large sweater over his shirt, his raging hard-on might be hard to explain to his brothers. He tugged on Joseph’s arm, waving goodbye to his befuddled companions. Allen led him towards the dark, sleek car parked close by. Once they stood next to it, Sixty corralled Joseph against the side of his car and kissed him hungrily. Allen felt exactly like he thought he would, firm and warm under his hands. All his anxiety and stress melted away as strong arms wrapped around his waist.

When he broke the kiss off to breathe, Sixty grinned down at Allen, “I’ll call you daddy.”

Joseph let out a rumbling chuckle, “that sounded pretty hot coming from your mouth.”

As they got into the car, Cain could hear Gavin mutter, “bet they’re gonna fuck in the car. Five bucks.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Nines responded.

Nines was about to be out five dollars.


End file.
